James woke up from a cool, smooth thud against his forehead. Reaching out to slap away the offending object, he encountered an empty bottle that must have slipped out of his grasp and rolled around the cell after he had fallen asleep on the floor last night. He winced. Even the muted sounds, like the dull splashes of the waves against the hull and creaking of the wooden planks, intensified the throbbing in his temples. His head was humming. Damn it to Hell, it really was a large bottle, and it was empty. It's been a while since he had gotten queasy on a ship, which undeniably he was.
The Interceptor was out in the open sea. He could tell by the rocking. Anxiety, James sensed it in the air by the subtle changes in the running of the ship, even if he had no idea what was happening. Enough was enough; he wanted to rest on something more comfortable than the brig's floor with a sour mouth and an aching head like that.
He contemplated how to draw attention without making a sound as not to jeopardise his sensitivities further when the he heard young, athletic footfalls descending the stairs. "Turner," he identified first, and then forced his head to lift and regarded the man wearily, "fetch the keys, and let me out of here already. I have Jack Sparrow to kill."
Will flinched, shiftily taking great interest in the planks below his boots. "Someone might have beaten you to it." Guilt was edged into every gesture. "Last night we went to negotiate with Captain Barbossa. We have rescued Elizabeth, but Jack fell behind."
Fell behind? James suddenly felt as hollow as the bottle he was clutching. The cell swayed alarmingly. The notion was incomprehensible. How could the ever insightful Jack Sparrow who was aways the first to foresee and the first to run, fall behind? Surely, the pirate life was filled with peril, especially where his brother was concerned, but James was completely unprepared. It couldn't be true. Yet, William had no reason to lie.
The inner conflict, between the desire to never abandon comrades and having to compromise his principles to save the life of the woman he loved, was engraved in the newly formed, thin wrinkles on William's forehead. "You mean you've left him behind," James accused, getting up and grabing onto the bars so tight his fingers shook. Bile rose in his throat, and he spat it out, nearly getting Turner's shoes in the process. "And to think I was worried about you! You've sold him out instead. No heroes among the Navy Captains I suppose," he sneered.
"Pirates, not Navy Captains," the man corrected.
"Call yourself whatever you like, your conscience is the same, Captain or pirate. I doubt you've considered turning back to be sure that he truly is dead, unless you've seen him die."
"We do not have the time to squabble," Turner said firmly, although he carried the guilt of his decision. "The Black Pearl needs no catching. She is after us. I want to know whether you intend to remain locked in this cell when Barbossa's crew attacks or will you help us fight them."
"Are you asking me whether I intend to extract revenge on a man who killed my brother?" James asked grimly. "Yes. I am."
"Fair enough."
When Turner unlocked the cell, James imposed an empty bottle onto him. Sparing a half-annoyed grin at the man's confusion, James strode past him up the stairs. Greedily, he breathed in the salty air that was so refreshing in its roughness, the wind and the sun leaving an all too familiar bitterness on his lips, and felt the nausea recede.
The deck of the Interceptor was crowded. Some elbow work helped him get through to a good observational point. No telescope was needed to make out the Black Pearl, barely outside her fore cannon's reach, connected to the pursued ship by a thin line of objects thrown overboard to escape her.
This plan would never work. James put his foot on top of the cannon that was about to be chucked into the water. "We're going to need that," he told the man who was cutting it loose. In confirmation, two rows of oars appeared on each side of the Black Pearl, hastening her enough to catch up with the prey.
"I think we need a new plan," said Turner.
"Indeed. You get on it," James approved. "My plan is to secure a pair of ear muffs. Cannon fire does not mingle well with a hangover. They'll be onto us soon enough."
His assumption proved correct. What was a dull throbbing blew into a pounding headache as the ships came in close quarters among the clang of steel, fire and smoke. James concentrated on getting aboard the Black Pearl, searching for Barbossa. Perhaps, cursed men couldn't die, but he could still lump off the Captain's ugly head and kick it overboard. Let him crawl all over the bottom over the sea looking for it until he rots.
He liberated a rope from one of the attackers, shaking him off into the water, and swung over, securing another rope aboard the Black Pearl. The un-dead crew was thrown to attack the Interceptor, most of them fighting at the portside. James got around them unnoticed, and landed not far from the bridge.
Barbossa had his back turned to the stairs, observing the boarding with a statue-like poise. His feet were set wide apart, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. A monkey was perched on his shoulder. The restlessly shifting creature studied the intruder suspiciously. James pressed a finger to his lips, imploring silence and stealthily advanced on his target. The monkey screeched and lunged at him. James slapped aside the offensive fur ball just in time to see an attack. It was too late to deflect it. He vaulted over the railing to dodge the slash. Undeterred, the Captain followed. Their blades clashed heavily, deciding who will attack and who will defend.
Baring a row of yellow teeth, and not without interest, the Captain grinned at the challenger, having recognised him. "James Sea, aarrr ye? I must thank you for stepping down as Jack's first mate. You've given me an opportunity to take your place, gain authority, and then use it relieve the unworthy Captain of his post."
"Touching speech," James sneered, "but I didn't come here to hear it."
The pirate chuckled as if his challenger's wrath was nothing more than a cause for amusement. Wearing the same smile he had sent countless men to their death. "Do enlighten me."
James shot him a poisonously polite smile, recalling how the two pirates in jail have reacted to being labelled during the attack on Port Royal. "I couldn't deny myself the pleasure to make closer acquaintance with a mutineer. But sending him to a place where he can repeat this nice, little speech in his defence on his judgement day might make my day."
"You've got a problem then, trying to cash in a skin of a beast you hadn't killed. You're off the edge of the map, mate. Here there be sea monsters."
James responded with a high swing, cutting off a few feathers from the Captain's hat, and received a kick to his knee in exchange. Undoubtedly, Barbossa was the best swordsman he had ever faced. James could only envy an opponent thirty years his senior who was so formidable, and wish he could do the same when or if he reached the same age. Barbossa fought defensively and conservatively against a much more energetic and agile opponent, anticipating every trick in and out of the book, letting the young man exhaust himself. James fell back to save his strength, inviting an attack. He noticed that they've covered a lot of space, edging closer to the centre of the fight. He didn't want someone to come to their Captain's rescue. His brief, sideway glance was a long enough distraction for Barbossa to bring his challenger down with a severe punch to the temple. He lunged to make the killing blow when the monkey, clutching a golden medallion, jumped onto his shoulder with an ear-piercing screech. Barbossa felt that someone was behind him and turned around quickly to meet the new threat. James tried to get up, but a large, heavy boot pressed down on his chest, stealing all breath from his lungs. He raised his sword to deflect a blow from a muscular, stripped down to his waist pirate, but none followed. The battle died down around them.
The voice of the winner confidently if gruffly filled the silence. "Thank you, Jack."
"You're welcome."
No one else could master the breezy, mocking intonation like that – it had to be Jack. James tried to raise his head to make sure that he hadn't imagined it, but his capturer growled at him, displeased, increasing the pressure on his ribs.
"Not you. We've named the monkey Jack."
The pirate removed his boot in favour of kicking the sword out of James' hand, and then grabbed his prisoner by the collar to heave him onto his feet. He was even taller than James. The prisoners were taken aboard the Black Pearl where some of them where tied to the mast by two goofy pirates, one bald and the other with one eye that kept falling out of his head and impeding the task.
Jack was trying to position himself close to Barbossa, occasionally slapping away multiple weapons that were pointed at him. Somehow, he had managed to save his skin, and James not for the first time asked himself whether his brother truly was the biggest fox of the Caribbean or was he that lucky. If it was luck, it seemed to have run out because the explosion of the Interceptor was telling that Barbossa did not take prisoners. The Captain was probably deciding on the most entertaining way to kill them all even as he negotiated with Turner for their release. James could only groan at the stupidity of the whelp. How many times in a row did he need to condemn Jack to death?
He had overestimated the savageness of the pirate, however. Barbossa was too shrewd to kill men who could potentially be of use to him. He ordered to tie the rest of the captured men to the masts and left them to blister in the scorching sun until he found the appropriate island where he disposed of the unwanted passengers by having Jack and Elizabeth walk the plank. The Captain examined the captured crew for any signs of insubordination. Majority of them were distinctly uncomfortable with his close scrutiny, perhaps with the exception of James who glared at him.
Barbossa pointed at James and ordered, "Him too."
Eager for more entertainment, the pirates set James loose and pushed him to the plank.
"Let me guess about that part where you've made a deal not to harm the rest of the crew," said James. He had hoped to get Jack off that island once Barbossa released them as per agreement, but it certainly wasn't part of the Captain's plan to give Jack another chance to escape. "The rules are more of the guidelines."
"The rest of the crew didn't ruin my hat," said Barbossa. "Off with you."
Lazily, the Captain removed a pistol from his belt. James dived without waiting to be shot at. He swam underwater away from the ship as far as holding his breath allowed. He was not far behind Jack when they climbed onto the shore.
Elizabeth was the least pleased. She looked like a drowned, finicky cat as she gathered her skirt, which kept tripping her up, to get out of the water. Her bad temper about being marooned on an island meanwhile her beloved was in a mortal peril reflected on anyone near her. "Jack, how did you escape the last time that you were made 'a governor' of this island?" she demanded to know.
"He is the governor again?" James chuckled. It was ridiculous to feel satisfied with life at present, yet he was because he and Jack have escaped with their lives after all. "Then I call dibs on Commodore." He picked up a palm leaf from the ground and set it on top of his head like a hat. "Don't you think I make a good one?"
"Yes Sir, Your Commodoreness, you do," Jack confirmed. He saluted James with his sword sheath.
"You're impossible!" Elizabeth yelled, stomping away from them.
Jack looked up at the sky with a strange waving motion of his wrists like he was communicating with an invisible bird. He then consulted his compass and went off in the opposite direction.
James considered who to follow. He settled on Elizabeth, somewhat curious why exactly Turner was willing to die for her.
"Miss Swann, I'm sorry, but we cannot escape from this island easily," he told her. "Nor is it a matter of withholding the information from you. The last time Jack had been marooned he was saved and delivered for a fair price to Tortuga by the rumrunners."
"That's it then?" she asked, stopping to shake the water out of her long hair. "That's the entire legend of the famous Jack Sparrow?"
"You can choose to believe the story about the turtles if you like," James grinned at her. She was pretty, at least much prettier than the picture Turner had drawn of her. Her physical appearance was the kind he was attracted to. Even her forward temperament and passion caused the sparks of interest. Apparently it wasn't mutual. She glared daggers at him, at present seeing Barbossa in every man who resembled a pirate and hating them for it.
"Stop following me! I don't want a company of a lying, cheating pirate who always finds ways to get around fulfilling the agreements."
James shrugged and began walking away from her. It wasn't in his principles to seduce women with their hearts already taken, and she seemed a poor company at present for anything else. Soon, he heard her running after him. Kicking stray crabs and stomping on the sea shells must have not been enough to vent her anger. "Lying, cheating and despicable!" she yelled, trailing after him.
"Have I lied to you or have you learned the truth and it has made you mad-er?" James inquired airily.
She sputtered. With his entire back he sensed that she was looking for something that was his fault. "Even your voice is a lie. Why were you faking an accent at Port Royal other than making up another lie on the spot for no reason at all?"
In spite of a sea shell hitting him on the back of the head, James didn't look back and sped up. "I believe we should find Jack," he said.
"I doubt he can go far. We can't lose him even if we wanted to," Elizabeth muttered. "Another shameless pirate, who at least has the decency to look like one, unlike some people."
"What is that suppose to mean?" James stopped abruptly. His headache was returning due to her yelling, something he intended to prevent. Perhaps Barbossa was onto something when he sent her overboard.
She must have sensed his annoyance and lowered her tone. "You remind me of a Navy officer in this uniform. With your hair combed you might pass for a military man rather than a pirate or at least someone whose parents were in the military."
He tensed. "You have quite an imagination."
"I know it sounds odd," she said, misinterpreting his reaction. "I am probably influenced by something my father had told me about Admiral Norrington. His five year old son had been abducted about twenty years ago. The Admiral had sent numerous expeditions looking for his boy, but never found him. Eventually, his superiors told him that he must focus on his duties instead of attending to his private matters. The Admiral was forced to abandon his search under threat of being removed from the Navy. But, I believe he never got over this tragedy, nor had he given up on finding his son. This is why he still serves at the Caribbean, although he could have retired or moved to a more advantageous post due to his connections."
It was tempting to tell her that she was right, just to see what her reaction to him would be like, just once to reveal the truth that had been drowning his heart like a large stone. "No, thank you," James forced the response appropriate for a pirate. "I think I'll pass on a relation to a man nicknamed the Scourge of Piracy."
"He isn't that bad," Elizabeth challenged.
"Not from my perspective."
"Now that I think about it, you do look like him, just dirtier," she persisted. "And your voice is similar. And you are the same age his son would be."
"I see," James said, trying not to show how much this story affected him. Summoning indignation helped. "May I remind you that you are following a notorious pirate, who will not hesitate to strangle you, and angering him by comparing him to his deadly enemy?"
Her glare was back full force, daring him to try, but she was deprived of a retort when Jack appeared, shouting and waving his arms in the air.
"Ahoy, you love birds! Come quick, I found something important!" he summoned.
James darted around Elizabeth and ran. She followed, hissing in pain whenever some minor, hidden in the sand shells pricked her bare feet.
Jack was running like a mad man, weaving a complicated path through a tall grass and around the trees. Suddenly, he vanished from view. James nearly fell into a hole in the ground. As he balanced on the edge, a trail of sand disturbed by his boots slid into the hole. Ignoring the dust shower, Jack's outstretched arms appeared with two bottles in his possession.
"We're saved!" Jack declared loudly.
"Rum!" Elizabeth exclaimed, having expected to find the means to escape from the island. "You found rum?"
Jack climbed out of the storage and made a grand gesture, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to the Caribbean."